two kitties

Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry

Jayber Crow was, is, the best book I've ever read. The only book in my life that made me scream OUT LOUD in bed at it's conclusion, and the only book I finished and then flipped immediately back to page one.

Each summer, Mike and I choose a book to read aloud at night when we are camping in Glacier Park. I can't wait for that. I started reading it to him last night on the deck and we read until the sun went down.

It is the simple story of a gentleman barber named Jayber Crow in the small town of Port William, Kentucky. At least it seems simple on the surface, but the story of someone's life is always more interesting when you pull at the seams, isn't it? It would be impossible for me to unwind it all here. Jayber says,

"...for a long time then I seemed to live by a slender thread of faith, spun out from within me. From this single thread I spun strands that joined me to the good things of the world. And then I spun more threads that joined all the strands together, making a life. When it was complete, or nearly so, it was shapely and beautiful in the light of day. It endured through the nights, but sometimes it only barely did. It would be tattered and set awry by things that fell or blew or fled or flew. Many of the strands would be broken. Those I would have to spin and weave again in the morning. But of course the story of my life is not finished yet. I will not live to tell the end of it...(p.330)"

(The photo is mine - taken on a visit to the ghost town of Bannock, Montana last winter.)

Mark Montano's Baby Head Paperweights.

I like the way they turned out. Kind of creepy. Kind of Jeff Koons.

Mark Montano Crafts: Making Baby Head Paperweights

It's official. The rainy season in Montana is underway. I don't mind it as much as some. A decade living in Scotland taught me to enjoy life, regardless of weather.

And rain means good things to come: lots of water down our creek, carpets of wildflowers on summer hikes and (hopefully) not as much smoke from forest fires during the dry months of July and August.

Bad weather is a good time to catch up on projects around our place. Remember this one?

Baby Head Paperweights from Mark Montano's book, Big-Ass Book of Crafts. These are actually headed for the sculpture garden that I am planning around my art studio. (Well, ok, maybe this is the only project I'm "planning", but I hope there will be others.)
 

This morning, I filled seven doll heads with plaster-of-paris and added a kabob skewer - which I hope will help keep them upright in the garden.

To get that mottled, kinda drunk-fake Rococo look, I'll finish them up with black and gold spray paints, as Montano instructed.

As always, I had help from my trusty art assistant, White Kitty. He seems to know the difference between the sound of me doing laundry and the sound of me doing something really pretty weird in the
laundry room. Just one of the things I love about him.

Rauschenberg is Dead.

Three years ago, I worked on a Merce Cunningham project, and that's how I want to remember Rauschenberg.

The work I most appreciate the most  was from the early years - what we now call the "New York School" of the 1950's. Materials and money were scarce, but the contemporary art scene in the city was authentic and alive - the way it hasn't been since.  But that's another post.

Rauschenberg was part of a phenomenal creative partnership with dancer Merce Cunningham and composer John Cage. Just one of the lifelong, enduring partnerships born at Black Mountain College in North Carolina.

This piece was a set for the Merce Cunningham Dance Company performance, "Minutiae" and was completed by Rauschenberg in 1954. Merce never offered Bob aesthetic direction for any piece. Merce believed in the connection between creativity and "chance"; the dancers would respond to the work as Rauschenberg made it.

In earlier days, Merce Cunningham Dance Company toured the country in a Volkswagen Bus, with "Minutiae" strapped to the roof. I saw the Rauschenberg Retrospective at the Met a couple of years ago, and this piece was the first thing you saw as you entered the exhibit. A line in the sand, the publicly accepted birth mark of the artist.

In the studio I'll offer up something to Bob today. A dumpster-diving-kind-of-prayer, giving thanks for found objects, printing on cardboard, painting on old quilts.

NO.

And I mean just say NO. Uuuuuuuuuuggggggly. There is no imaginably good reason for you to wear an amphibious high heel.

Spokes.

Bike Wheel in Cemetery, originally uploaded by smwarnke4.

I've been working pretty steady in the art studio the last few weeks. Not exactly marathon sessions, but at least a couple of hours each day, and I'm making art, more than craft.

I've been working on two handmade books this week. I find that I am obsessed with bicycle and ferris wheels - a thread picked up from some work I did a few years ago but hadn't looked at until more recently.

Some of the structures were inspired by work I saw in Esther K. Smith's book. She does beautiful work. It's hard to keep going when I compare my work to hers.

Sometimes I wish I had a printing press, but then again, you can do many things with a piece of office paper and a color photocopier. I went to a workshop back in 2000 that was entirely about how to use the photocopier in the construction of artist books.  The two day class was taught by British artist Sue Doggett at the Minnesota Center for Book Arts.

Many of the photocopy techniques are published in Doggett's book, along with other ideas for making artist books. (Did you know you can preview entire chapters of books on Google?)

Sappy Mushrooms

Sappy Mushrooms, originally uploaded by twokitties.typepad.com.

These mushrooms are growing on a ponderosa pine in the woods next to our house. I like the really intense orange against the purple-blue bark.

Confession: We're Sunday Drivers

I'll be honest - I haven't been very blog-inspired the last two weeks. The weather here in Montana has been positively, unusually, dermatologically, sublime  and we've spent more time out of the house than in it.

On Saturday, Mike and I drove down to Missoula to see Junior Brown in concert. To see Junior live was Mike's dream come true. And he is an incredible guitarist - if you've got time, have a look at the video clip. The show rocked.

On Sunday, we wound our way back home through the back roads from Missoula towards Polson. We drove by this barn outside of Ronan - probably the most photographed barn in all of Montana.

The barn is on every calendar. Step back ten feet and you would see the houses and farms that surround it, but just like this - it's the stereotypical image everyone has of old Montana.

There are lots of babies around.

And we passed through St. Ignatius, which has a Mennonite community. I have a pretty bad You Tube video of a couple Sunday driving in their horse and buggy posted here.

I just liked the way the pasture horses were so interested in the buggy. Not much happens out there in a day, I guess.

Felted Sweater Bird Mobile

I'm still cruising Etsy, and tonight I found this bird mobile from Mosey.   

My Theories: Some Proven, Some Not.

A short selection. Don't worry - more felt, fabric, and needlework coming up this week...

1. Stretchy pants make you fat.

2. Hotel soap is not pure soap. It is actually just a piece of cardboard dipped in a waxy, white, soap composite type material.

3. If you shorten your jeans, they will shrink. If you don't, they will always be just a leeeettle too long.

4. Animals know what we're thinking. If you have something you need your pet to understand, think it in your head, don't say it out loud. This also works on cats and dogs you meet on walks, or pass by in cars next to you on the highway.

5. I always try to look nice when I go to the doctor and when I am traveling. I believe that doctors and airline check-in staff determine how to treat people by the way they look. 

6. Chiropractors work, but you can never stop going. It's a forever deal.

To be continued....